


Separate beds

by Simbanrat



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Not Happy, One Shot, Sad, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26517718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simbanrat/pseuds/Simbanrat
Summary: After Ben was arrested the boys went to bed, their separate beds.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Separate beds

**Author's Note:**

> No humour or joy in this at all I'm afraid.
> 
> I was sad thinking about how they would both feel going to bed that night, Callum at home without Ben and Ben in prison. 
> 
> Lets hope Ben is home quickly!!

Callum got back to the flat and let himself in, he was expecting to see someone, anyone, but the place was empty. It seemed appropriate. 

He numbly headed to the bathroom and stripped off his clothes, letting them fall into a pile on the floor before climbing into the shower, attempting to wash the day away. It had been an odd day, it started so well and ended so badly. He allowed himself a few tears as he stood under the too hot water, letting it scold his skin slightly until he could take no more and he shut off the water, stepped out and wrapped a towel around himself. 

He gathered his clothes from the floor and plodded to the kitchen carrying them, heading straight to the washing machine to chuck them in, wanting to wash away the day from them as much as his own body. He left them there, not bothering to turn it on now and leaving it for the morning. All he wanted to do was to crawl into bed and forget the mess his life was. 

When he got to the bedroom door he stood and looked at the bed. It was dark and cold in the room, the bed barely visible apart from the light from the street outside coming in from the window and the light from the kitchen to illuminate it. He had to stifle the tears again, looking at the place on the bed that Ben usually slept, God he wished he was there now. It had barely been a few hours and he missed him so much already. 

He walked to Ben’s side of the bed and pulled back the cover. He pulled the towel off of his body and threw it to one side before climbing in. He settled into the sheets and on the mattress, trying to work out if he could feel his lovers imprint on it. He couldn’t, but he could still smell him there. The shampoo he used was still fresh on the pillow and Callum turned his head to breathe it in. 

He should have been at the Mitchell house right now, having agreed to move in with Ben earlier that day. They should have gone to Stuart’s stag party and then stumbled home together, laughing at how awful and tacky the strip club was and how funny his brother was when they got there. Then they’d fall into bed together and snuggle, pleased to be together, just the two of them. 

He couldn’t face being there now, he had to go back to the flat. There was no way he could go to the house and face Phil, couldn’t tell him what happened just yet. And he certainly couldn’t be in Ben’s bed without him, what should be their bed. But is this bed any better? He felt comfortable here at least, he just hoped that Stuart would leave him be for a while, not shout at him about not showing up at his stag party til the morning. He couldn’t cope with it now, likely to burst into tears at any confrontation. 

He pushed his head harder into the pillow and tried to smell more of Ben, reaching his hand out and stroking the empty bed wishing his lover was laying opposite him. He really didn’t know if he was going to be able to cope without him, they’d missed each other so much over lock down and now he’s lost him again. 

\-------- 

Ben looked at the small ledge they claimed was a bed, the thin blue plastic they called a mattress and sighed. He stepped towards it and turned around, sitting down on it and allowing his body to lay down and lifting his legs onto it. His head landed on the pathetic pillow, it smelt clean but it was rough on his skin and was barely an inch thick. 

The room was silent, Ben removed his implant to avoid answering any questions with the copper and hadn’t bothered to put it back in. What was the point. He remembered the awful sounds of prison last time he was there. The clink of the bolt as the door was locked, the yelling and shouting from other prisoners. Why would he want to hear that, nah, the sound of silence was way more appealing, a silent prison in his head to go with the prison his body was in. 

It was lonely, of course it was. It was one of the worst things about being locked up, how isolating it was. Not just because he was locked away from family and friends, but because he was the weird gay kid, nobody wanted to be around him unless it was to beat him up. Now he was the weird gay grown up with a copper boyfriend. This time was going to be so much worse. If he thought his deafness was a problem the last time, this was going to be impossible. He might as well get used to the silence again, there is no way he’ll be able to keep a hold of his implant this time.

As Ben laid there he took in his surroundings. The sparse room was small and cold, a metal toilet with no seat and a sink. That was it. Cold green walls and the light was flickering away above him, the light too harsh and bright. It should be dull and dark to represent the environment better. But Ben figured it was bright for a reason, to drive inmates crazy by not being able to sleep when they wanted. Needing to wait for someone else to turn it out for them. 

He closed his eyes and tried to picture Callum opposite him, trying to imagine his face and the way he smiled at him from his pillow. He felt the tears wanting to escape his eyes and he scrunched them shut tighter trying to keep them in and attempting to show no weakness. When he thought of the way his boyfriend would reach out and stoke his face he angrily turned over to face the wall, hoping that the falling tears would have no witness apart from the green paint. 

Ben tried to let his imagination pretend he was in his own bed, that his boyfriend was laying next to him and everything was going to be ok. He reached for the rough thin blanket and threw it messily over himself as he settled back down, attempting to warm himself in the cold room and stared at the wall where Callum should be. 

\-------- 

They both went to sleep that night, lonely in their respective beds. When they awoke in the morning they were just as lonely, neither seeing the sight they so badly wished they could when they opened their eyes.


End file.
